Let Him Go
by Fuyu no Akegata
Summary: A Kakashi love story, set post-Kyuubi. There's only one problem... Yondaime's dead.


**Genre: ***snort* like you need to ask? angst, duh...  
**Rating:** not NC-17 yet, but heading that way :P eh, let's say PG for this part  
**Warnings:** Me trying something new  
**Notes:** This is a love story. Yes, Minato is undeniably dead. Yes, I'm going somewhere with this, and have things sort of mapped out in my head, but we all know that sort of thing is subject to change... I just read some review replies about Grey Dawn... I told them not to worry, that it wasn't a deathfic... *oops* Let's just say it's a non-fluffy love story and leave it at that for now :)

Big thanks to Vernajast and MoiyaHatake for beta, though Moiya may barely remember since it's been sitting in google docs for ten months, and even longer than that on my hard drive. It finally went somewhere the other night. Also, thank you to Kiterie for the original conversation (about something completely unrelated) that led to this. My mind automatically turns anything into a fic with Kakashi if I'm inspired...

* * *

"Let him go."

The ANBU didn't turn around, didn't answer.

"It's been six months now."

"I know how long it's been." His voice was scratchy and hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in a long, long time, and there was a flat, emotionless quality to it that rubbed the older man raw to hear.

The brat probably did know, down to the second. "Kakashi... you can't keep doing this. You're killing yourself." Jiraiya was trying to be reasonable, to keep from shaking the too young/too old man/boy before him, but he looked so thin, fragile, pale and brittle, as if made from spun glass and silver moonbeams. Ephemeral. An empty shell walking around only because he didn't realize he, himself, was dead. The sannin shook himself, trying to force the morbid thought from his mind.

The young ANBU only shrugged, remaining stiff and silent, unyielding, like an oak sapling.

Jiraiya wished Kakashi would show some sign of bending beneath the weight of grief he knew had to be there. Willows gave before the wind and weathered the storm. He didn't want to see Kakashi break. Even as strong as the boy was, he might never come back, might not find the will, might not want to. "I can't let you, you know. I promised your father if anything ever happened to him, I'd look after you. Minato..." It still hurt to say his name. "Minato couldn't bear to see you like this."

"It's good he can't then, isn't it? I'm fine. I can take care of myself, so you don't need to worry. You can have a clean conscience on my part." He sneered and turned away. It was more words than he'd said in one breath since he'd carried the lifeless body of the Hokage back into the village and made his report.

Jiraiya walked behind him, making enough noise so that Kakashi could hear, and put an arm around him, turned the tense body to him. "You're not fine. And this won't help. It won't bring him back."

There was still no sign of emotion other than the near suffocating tautness of his body.

"What about Naruto? Would you leave him alone? Break the promise you made?" It was a low blow, but right now Jiraiya didn't much care. He was losing patience, and he'd seen enough of death to last him through three lifetimes. He'd be damned if he'd give up on Kakashi without a fight.

The only signs Kakashi had heard Jiraiya's words were the narrowing of one visible eye, a muscle leaping along the masked jaw, and gloved fingers clenched into fists.

"You promised Minato you'd watch him, you'd teach him, you'd tell him when the time was right. If you don't do it, who will? Who else will see him as anything but the fox container?" Jiraiya pressed the point. Kakashi could never ignore duty before this.

"What about you? Didn't you make the same promises? You do it." He continued on, hair tinted a tarnished bloody silver in the light of the setting sun. He walked blindly, consciously pushing away the sympathy along with his own vows and responsibilities.

"The old man is considering pulling you pending a full evaluation on your fitness for duty..." Jiraiya wasn't entirely sure his sensei _was _planning that, but if he wasn't, Jiraiya would suggest it. He wouldn't, couldn't, stand by and watch the boy kill himself this way, hiding it under the cloak of duty to the village. It was suicide, as plain and simple as Sakumo's had been, no matter the reasons behind it for either of them.

Kakashi spun, grabbed a fistful of Jiraiya's clothing, lifted him until only the front of his geta touched the ground. He was trembling, and his face had twisted in rage. "Stay out of it! Both of you! I'm fit for duty, and you know it!"

Jiraiya had never seen Kakashi lose his composure like this before, and the contrast between his typical iron control and this barely leashed fury was startling. But it gave him hope that he was getting through. It was a crack in Kakashi's shell, a weakness he could exploit to save him from himself. He pushed harder, despite his own precarious position. "I know no such thing. Right now, kid, you're a danger to yourself and others. You'll get yourself _and _your team killed at this rate, and who knows how many more, cleaning up the mess you're going to make..."

"No... You're wrong." Kakashi took a deep breath, and another, fighting to keep a rein on his fraying control. "I'll never let another teammate die." He'd vowed it. He'd die first.

"You can't keep that sort of promise, Kakashi. You know that. This just proves you aren't thinking straight." Jiraiya ruthlessly pressed buttons, praying for a reaction.

Kakashi's arm trembled, but it wasn't from physical fatigue. "I will. It won't happen again." Kakashi's voice betrayed him, sounding unsteady even to himself. He lowered Jiraiya quickly, almost dropping him, turning away immediately.

"You can't stop death, Kakashi. No one can."

"I..." The silver haired boy (and no matter what he'd done, what he'd seen, somewhere inside he _was _still a lost boy) shook his head, still trying to deny the inevitable. He was young and naive enough to still think he could change things.

Jiraiya cut him off. "He's dead. Let him go."

"No." The word fell from lips bitten jagged, though no one saw, hidden behind his masks. "Never."

Even the thought was too much for him, and he sprang away, leaping to the safety and comfort of a tree branch, running to the forest and trying to escape truth.

Jiraiya shook his head and sighed. He'd lost the battle this time, but he had years of experience on the kid and was far more stubborn. He'd bide his time and make him see. Even Kakashi couldn't battle death and win.


End file.
